Full Moon
by Dragodden
Summary: An exploration of Katara's reaction to the knowledge of bloodbending. Darkish.


The full moon was calling to her. As it often did, and as it always had spoken to any waterbender in tune to their element. Except, for Katara, the innocence of its calling was gone. Power pulsed in her veins as her mind filled with unwanted knowledge.

_Bloodbending._

Katara settled deeper into her sleeping bag. Although the night was unbearably hot inside the small cabin she and her friends had taken refuge in, her body began to tremble and shiver sporadically. As she hid her head under her covers her teeth clacked together so powerfully that her jaw began to ache.

She had been able to keep control while her friends were awake, but listening to their calm breathing (or loud snoring in her brother's case) and knowing no one watched had brought her panic to the surface. A lack of appetite during dinner had been her only indication anything was amiss. This was her fifth full moon since that fateful meeting in the fire nation. She lived by the moon cycles, now.

A fine layer of sweat was building up over her body as she hid in her dark sanctuary. Suddenly, it was too hot, and she couldn't breath. Her heart hammered almost painfully in her chest. Gasps coming in shallow, quick intervals told her she was likely having a panic attack. The cabin was closing in around her.. too small and stifling hot. Katara threw off her sleeping bag and stumbled blindly towards the door. She needed cool air. Open space. Moving water from the river nearby. She bumped into the door and felt around desperately for the handle before she grasped it and threw herself into the welcoming night and the delicious cool air, unaware that she had woken up a companion.

Staggering towards the riverbed a handful of meters away, Katara allowed a strangled cry to escape her lips, tears filling her eyes and making her surroundings swim. Despite holding back her screams, her throat already felt raw. Knowing what she knew made her feel dirty and sullied. She had wanted none of it; a power so strong she could end a life by merely gathering what she controlled. The thought of using her new skill to easily pull the life source of an individual in a simple motion was too heavy a burden. Some things were not meant to be mastered, but now it was too late.

What horrified the water-tribe girl more was that she had already put the terrible art into use. True, she had been prompted to use it in self-defense as well as to protect her friends. But later, in a lapse of judgment she had used her knowledge for revenge.. She shuddered. That could not happen again.

Katara threw herself onto the smoothed gravel by the riverbed, her knees protesting as she made contact. Whimpers were able to escape now and then, though she resisted the full force of her fear. Gazing at her reflection on her hands and knees, she bitterly observed the mocking full moon's reflection off to her right. Her breathing was still shallow, and she struggled to make her air intake longer and deeper, emptying her mind as she bent the river water to gather above her head. She quickly released it and gasped as the cold liquid hit the back of her head, clearing her mind, although that was not necessarily a blessing.

Sitting back with her legs under her she took another deep breath and looked to her left arm. A burst of frustration cause her to rake her nails down the tanned flesh, leaving furrows that sluggishly fill with the liquid she was currently agonizing over. Staring in horrified fascination, she gathered a small red bubble above the cut and allowed it to hover momentarily. A shudder racked her body and she threw the blob into the stream with a strangled cry. She was shaking again, sobs escaping her lips, tears overflowing her lids, breath coming shorter and shallower..

Suddenly, strong arms came around her shoulders and gently pulled her back against a warm, firm chest. She didn't fight him. The comfort those arms offered finally allowed Katara to break down into real, shuddering sobs. Closing her eyes tightly, tears flowed down over her scrunched cheeks and fell onto the arms wrapped around her, sliding slowly over blue, tattooed skin. Gradually her breathing returned to normal, having cried herself dry. She leaned further into the comforting embrace and felt warm lips press gently to the corner of her right eye. Taking another shuddering breath, she felt her body finally relax and true exhaustion saturate every corner of her.

Katara looked into the darkness behind her eyelids. Wonderful, comforting oblivion greeted her back as she slouched, her limbs numb. Just as she was sure she'd been through it all for one night, her black vision filled with tangled corpses stumbling closer as if being moved by strings. As they came nearer, there agonized faces lifted to accuse her. With a gasp she forced her eyes open and stared at the sky. A bruised expanse was all that met her, the moon's absence indicating the coming dawn. She must have fallen asleep.

Katara sighed in relief, and noticing the arms still wrapped firmly around her turned in their grip to face their sleeping owner. He had pulled them back, away from the river, and up against an old tree. Her lips quirked up into a bittersweet smile, and she traced a finger along the left corner of a blue arrow tattoo, following it down to the next point between his eyebrows. She replaced her finger with her lips and pressed a gentle thank you kiss to the center of Aang's brow. He didn't stir.

Today was a new day. She could be strong, again. She'd survived another full moon.

Author's note: This is way darker than is me, but I was really sorry the series didn't have the chance to delve deeper into this idea. Katara sure didn't look happy at the end of the episode (The Puppetmaster, Season 3).. but I figured she could be a little bit more screwed up over it. Anyhow, please let me know what you think! :)


End file.
